


to be whole

by jujunie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sort of canon?, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Writer Akaashi Keiji, Yearning, akaashi keiji is embarrassed to admit he writes gay shit about his boyfriend, almost ALMOST fluff without plot, bokuto does the o.o, bokuto's #1 weakness is akaashi, he edits a magazine right, its mutual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25020676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujunie/pseuds/jujunie
Summary: "You're the sunshine through tree leaves. You're the moonlight on owl wings."Three-part short drabble about post-high school Akaashi eventually telling Bokuto he writes Soft Yearning stories about him (and wins an award for it).
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	to be whole

**Author's Note:**

> This is a super duper fluffy birthday gift for someone who is very dear to me - happy birthday @noyatoyashoya (find her on twitter!!)

The phone is ringing.

  
Akaashi sighs, annoyed that his focus is broken, and turns away from the writing at hand to check his phone. His mood swings a clean one-eighty upon seeing “Bokuto” and his sleepy, drooling face pop up on the screen. He smiles a little at the photo before swiping to pick up.

  
“AKAASHI!” comes the loud greeting. Akaashi habitually leans the phone further from his ear. Despite how loud and pestering Bokuto can be, he can’t help but feel his heart warm at the familiar voice. It spreads to the tippy top of his head and to the bottoms of his toes. 

  
Akaashi slips the glasses off his face, smiling for real now, “Yes, Bokuto-san?”

  
“Whatcha doin’, whatcha doin’?” 

  
“Writing. Aren’t you supposed to be at a tournament?”

  
“We lost in the second round, so we came home early. Can I come over? I’m antsy from doing nothing.”

  
Akaashi considers this, for a moment. He spares a helpless glance at the text in front of him and sighs, giving in to knowing work will have to wait.

  
“Sure. Half an hour? Give me some time to tidy up.”

  
“Hey, hey, hey! See you soon, Akaashi.” The call ends with a click. Akaashi smiles again, setting his phone down.

  
Ever since the first day they met, Akaashi’s felt as if his world had been struck with a hammer. Bokuto, one year his senior in high school, was all loud shouting and beaming enthusiasm, the human equivalent of a burning sun. Whenever they played together, Akaashi felt his ordinarily dull world explode with sheets of cascading light, as if Bokuto’s soaring back could physically lift his spirits, injecting his heart with rivets of crackling electricity. 

  
But, other times, Bokuto is surprisingly quiet. On or off the court, when Bokuto is focused and in his zone, it’s a different kind of charged, breathless like a brewing thunderstorm. But, somehow, Akaashi is never afraid. If anything, it’s the opposite. It’s a quiet kind of warmth, the kind that sneaks up on you and eventually leaves you dizzy, out of breath and reeling in its aftermath. Akaashi is all kinds of breathless when around Bokuto, the ripple in a calm, but he likes it. After so long, he’s not sure how to be without it.

  
Bokuto Koutarou was the sun to his moon, the fire to his water. Some would say they were polar opposites from each other – calm versus energetic, logical versus hotheaded.

  
But somehow, Akaashi thinks they make it fit.

  
__

“Bokuto-san, listen to me,” Akaashi begins. They’re sitting by the river, pantlegs rolled up and feet bare, dangling in the bubbling stream below. It’s a beautiful spring day – all cherry blossoms and cool breezes, new life and distracted daydreams. For a confession, Akaashi is surprisingly calm. He’s been sitting on these words for so long, they’ve turned certain, sure, like pressure squeezing out every ounce of doubt from rough carbon, refining them into crystals of diamond devotion. 

  
Bokuto turns to look at Akaashi, eyebrow raised in unspoken questions.

  
“Bokuto-san – I think I’m in love with you.”

  
There’s a moment’s pause, like the calm before a storm, as Bokuto stares at the side of Akaashi’s head. Sounds from the river seemed to amplify, roaring in their ears and surging in their veins. Akaashi’s eyes drift towards the sky.

  
“I live every day in awe of who you are and how you so easily inspire others. I’m on my feet today because of you, Bokuto-san, and I can’t believe that you’re still here. You’re around in my life despite us doing different things, and – ”

  
Akaashi is interrupted by a sudden gust of wind, and everything turns to slow motion as he feels warm fingers connecting with his face, light reflecting soft and speckled off of the water beneath them, and suddenly Bokuto is very, very close and it’s all shared breaths and wide eyes and pounding heartbeats as their mouths fit together, brief and sensitive and easy, for only seconds before Bokuto pulls Akaashi into his chest. 

  
“I can’t believe you beat me to it,” Bokuto’s voice is rough, like he has to drag it out of his throat before he starts to cry. Akaashi laughs, quiet but wonderful, and buries his face in Bokuto’s shoulder.

  
“Oh, and call me by my name. Feels weirdly formal when you do the ‘san’ thing,” Bokuto says into Akaashi’s hair. He smiles.

  
“Okay,” Akaashi hesitates, mouthing the word to see how it feels on his tongue.

  
“Koutarou.”

  
__

The awards ceremony is hot and stuffy. However, any time Akaashi gets to see Bokuto in a double-vented, three-piece suit is a treat in itself, so he doesn’t complain. His last short story won an award in a local writing competition, and Bokuto is here at the awards proceedings as his guest. Ironically, Bokuto is the only one among those in his circles who has not read any of Akaashi’s work. Despite the endless complaints, Akaashi has always embarrassedly rejected reading requests. 

  
_Maybe, today is the day._

  
“Akaashi, it’s really hot in here. Everyone is so…pretentious,” Bokuto whispers, fidgeting in his suit and crinkling the napkin in his lap. Where they’re sitting, there are two other writers at their table. Hopefully, Bokuto can sit still long enough for Akaashi to receive his award, which apparently is being presented at the very end. Otherwise, the people sitting with them are in for a long night.

  
_Bokuto’s weakness number three hundred and ninety-six: he absolutely cannot sit still when he has nothing to do._

  
Akaashi only prays for the food to arrive in spaced intervals, so Bokuto has something to distract himself with. 

  
When Akaashi’s name is finally called, Bokuto is the first to stand up and clap, cheering loudly and getting a few disapproving looks from the crowd, but Akaashi only flushes and walks calmly on stage. Upon receiving the award, Bokuto gets even louder, to the point where a server has to ask him to sit down. Akaashi offers a small, bashful smile in his direction. 

  
He leans into the mic and starts to give his speech. He thanks his parents, editors, and numerous readers. General housekeeping. Finally, he pauses, taking a deep breath. 

  
“Lastly, I’d like to thank a very important person in my life. He’s been my constant, my inspiration, and I think it’s only fair to the readers – and to him – that he knows this story was written about him. I would not be here if it weren’t for you,” Akaashi looks Bokuto directly in the eyes. He face is a little shocked, mouth hanging slightly open. 

  
“You’ve always been bugging me to read my stuff, so, here goes nothing, I guess,” Akaashi shifts his weight between his feet and breathes in. 

  
“‘You’re the sunlight through tree leaves. You’re the moonlight on owl wings. With you, I can fly, I can soar, yet you’re the Earth that I never want to leave, the Earth where I will always return. You take my breath away, yet without you, I forget how to breathe. I always find myself wondering how to live with myself, just me, whenever you leave me for a while. What do I do, without you? What was it like, without you? You are pure relentlessness, unabashed, unwavering – strong. To be with you is like finding another piece of myself.’”

  
_Is Bokuto crying?_ Akaashi laughs a little, quiet but wonderful.

  
“‘To be with you, is to be whole.’”

  
There’s a moment where everything is frozen. Everything fades away until Bokuto and Akaashi are the only ones left. Then the noise comes flooding back as applause fills the room, but none of that can drown out the Bokuto that is now standing on his chair, manners and stifled small talk forgotten, eyes beaming and cheeks a berry red. Akaashi smiles wide.

  
“AKAASHI!”


End file.
